


Progress

by Virtual_Reality



Series: Steve and Bucky through the years [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Pepper Potts, Best Friends, Bodyguard, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, Love Notes, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4612152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virtual_Reality/pseuds/Virtual_Reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a series - still alive, by the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progress

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. Take it before I change my mind.
> 
> Sorry, no smut right now. I'm working through depression, and it's been a struggle. I can't smut right now... But It's been too long since I've posted, and things aren't getting better, and this came to me all at once... So... You guys deserve at least a little something for being so patient with me. I do plan to continue, but (unfortunately) the pace will be slower.
> 
> Sorry again, I am really embarrassed, but mostly terrified.
> 
> Here goes nothing.

Things changed in Steve after Bucky changed his appearance. It took Bucky a while to notice, being so busy, but when he slowed down, it was surprisingly obvious. He smiled more, James would catch him smiling at him all the time, looking away as soon as he was caught. He was less careful around him, no longer watching him with that uneasy caution. It was nice. He was surprisingly easygoing when he wasn't worrying about him so much, and it was easier on his anxiety when Steve was relaxed.

Steve joked around a lot more now, and James likes him better this way. It was a lot easier for him when Steve just laughs and calls him an idiot. A lot easier than when he starts getting emotional, and whispering his love. He never knows how to react when Steve got like that, and he feels bad about that, but what could he say? He knows it's been hard on Steve, too, looking for his old Bucky, and struggling with the fact that he'd changed, but things are better between them now. He's almost sure of that. Or maybe he just didn't notice how they were together until they were apart...

James loves his job. He loves the freedom, and the trust. He loves feeling like he's doing good, like he has a purpose. Like he's helping, keeping people safe, making the world a little bit better, a little bit safer. It helps, especially in the evenings when he's alone with his thoughts, and he remembers all he's done. It's not enough, he doesn't think he can ever do enough to compensate, but it feels good to be going straight again. He probably won't ever be the man he used to be, but maybe someday he can be the kind of man he owed to his past self, the kind of man Steve deserves.

James is on the phone in his office the next time he saw Steve, on a security feed for downstairs. His office is small and not quite as private as he would like (Sandwiched between the floor's hallways, and Pepper's office.), and he spends most of his life on the phone nowadays... It's not necessarily part of his job description, but one of the things he did off to the side for Miss. Potts: reservations, confirmations, bookings, press, contacts - things like that, it changes every day, and he's welcome to pass calls to her if need be, but he's helping.

Secretly, James still thinks it's funny that he's working a desk job after all he's been through, but at least for the foreseeable future, it's what he's comfortable doing. Besides, Clint has been floating around the tower the past few days trying to find something to do with himself between missions while SHIELD is down, and Bucky's been getting plenty of exercise to make up for it on the training grounds shooting with him, and it's nice to have a friend. It's nice to be able to get out his energy, and practice shooting without the stress. He doesn't miss what he did as the Asset, but maybe someday, he might like to do what Steve does. Earn some level of redemption. Overall, James likes it here, even if Steve is over an hour away.

It was the first time Steve had visited him during work hours, and the first time James had seen him in nearly ten days outside of video chats. Steve had been waiting for him to adjust to his new job, giving him the time and space to become stable and independent from him, and James really appreciated it. He had missed him, though. Very very much. He smiles when Steve cracks the door open, peering inside curiously, and James is trying to look surprised, doing his best in pretending he hadn't been flipping through video feeds since he walked through the door, and authorized his entrance to his office before he'd even touched the doorknob. He waves him inside, gesturing to a couch that Steve gives a fleeting look of disinterest.

James watches Steve navigate his office with quiet interest, how he shoves his hands in his pockets, wandering, seemingly aimless, eyes drifting over the surface of the wide cherry wood desk in front of him. The surface is almost bare, save two thin computer screens he viewed the camera feed on, matched with a sleek keyboard, mouse, telephone, and two hardback novels that have been keeping him company in Steve's absence.

Steve moves casually around the small space and James' eyes follow him, to the side where a couch and a lamp and a potted tree that James despises almost as much as the metal detector - Steve grins at him when he passed that, and He rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can manage. He continues to watch him until he's behind the desk. Bucky's chair has wheels, and his phone has no cord, but seems too childish to spin his chair just so he can watch Steve.

He fishes a notebook out of his coat pocket, and a pen from his desk drawer, and starts to jot down notes to pass on to Pepper. Steve places his hands on the edge of the desk, on either side of Bucky, and leans over him, eyes fixed on the screens curiously. Pepper's office, and outside his own office. Bucky waves him off, trying not to get too distracted from the secretary on the other end of the line. Steve is undeterred, and lowers his lips to Bucky's neck, pressing a soft, open mouthed kisses to his pulse. Bucky swats him away, shifting the phone to his other ear so he could jot down an address in a notepad.

Steve presses another kiss to his clothed shoulder, and James isn't bothered by that at all, he could handle the muted touches, it's the neck kisses that really get to him. He gets the address down and writes out the name of the company in block letters, asking quietly for a telephone and email contact. Steve lips are on his jaw now, and Bucky tries to lean away, taking notes in shorthand, and by the time he reaches his ear, his hand is hovering uselessly over the notepad and Steve has to remind him in a whisper the last four digits of the phone number he was writing. He earned a hard shove for that one.

James nearly drops his phone when he shifts it back to his left hand, and he really needs to talk to Tony about that. Getting some kind of glove that makes this office stuff easier... He pushes Steve back, as he finished the phone call, and spun his chair around to face Steve's goofy smile, determined to be annoyed.

"You're s threat to the security of this company, Steve Rogers. Do you know who that," he leans back, "Do you have any idea who I- mmm... Steve?" He murmurs around the press of Steve's mouth, tipping his head back to break the kiss, "I wasn't finished."

Steve chuckles, "Sorry."

Bucky snorts, "Liar." He says, and grimaces to keep from smiling, "You're going to wrinkle my suit."

"My humblest apologies." Steve steps back, smoothing a hand down each of Bucky's arms, and meeting him halfway for a brief kiss. "Hungry? I wanted to take you out for lunch."

James considers this, "Well, I just wanted burgers for lunch."

"I can do burgers."

Bucky grunts in agreement, moving the mouse with unnecessary caution as he clocks out and signs off the system, "With wine and candles and music?" He glances up, grinning in a way that makes Steve unsure if it was a joke or if he meant it.

Steve looks so adorable when he was confused, and Bucky could just die, "For lunch?"

Bucky laughs, "There's a little Fifties diner on the corner - it's the best I've found. Come on, Stevie, I'll share a milkshake with you."

"Do you need to...?" Steve made a nonsense gesture towards Pepper's office.

"Boss lady." James nods, and Steve laughs when he side steps the metal detector to knock. He's in the office less than a minute and he's smiling when he steps out, looping arms with Steve without a word.

The diner was adorable, one of James' favorites. With a checkerboard floor, and a jukebox full of vinyl records, and vintage posters plastered all over the walls, and waitresses in poodle skirts, and weathered newspapers and comic books protected by the glass tabletops, the nicer ones framed on the walls, and Bucky's fingers are twined with Steve's over the top of the table, and Bucky feels ridiculously overdressed sitting in a cherry red booth in a sunny diner laughing at the comic book pages at their table.

The food is great, as usual, and the service is friendly, and Bucky hadn't realized how much he'd missed Steve. He got to tell stories about his job, and laugh, and smile, and hold Steve's hand for the first time in over a week, and he never wanted to let go. They don't have time for milkshakes, but James doesn't mind, and on the walk back to the tower, their fingers are laced together, and to Bucky, that's sweeter than any ice cream he's ever had. Parting ways is the worst part, and it's done with a soft kiss in the elevator, which paused to let Bucky out, and he held the door open, grasping a handful of Steve's shirt, kissing him twice more before he let him go.

Walking back to his office alone wasn't nearly as nice.

The day passed slowly, full of more telephone calls, and emails, screen monitoring, and paperwork. For the first two hours, Bucky can't stop watching the clock, but by three thirty, he stops. He thinks about sending Clint a message, asking if he's free, or seeing if Pepper or Happy wanted to see a movie. He always dreaded the evenings - he hated being alone. Having all the free time for his thoughts to wander. To feel the stab of anxiety in his chest, keeping him up until the early hours of the morning, and plaguing the few hours of rest he got with nightmares. He starts to feel his lack of sleep more and more as the day ticked on, and as six o'clock approached, he buries himself in a stack of paperwork for an excuse to stay late.

Miss Potts smiles at him when she emerges from her office, walking to his desk, and running her delicate fingers through his hair.

"Time to call it quits." She says softly, moving that hand to his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hmm," James hums, "just finishing up."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't look upset either. "James," she starts, "this is the third night this week."

He pauses, pen hovering over a document. "I don't mind."

"This can wait until morning," She says, and as much as James wants to protest, he assumes that anyone who could handle Tony like she could probably never lost an argument. "you get some rest. You look tired."

"Yes, ma'am," He says quietly, and she smiles, giving him a playful shove. She waits for him, and that's pressure enough not to stall. He packs his things up, and together they walk out, James locking up behind them. Pepper waits quietly at each stop. She's carrying a binder, her suit coat, and her shoes with her, and she looks a little tired herself. He walks her to the elevator, and takes the stairs up to the residential floors. Exhaustion, he's learned, is key.

His floor is the same one he used to share with Steve, and he still refers to it as 'our floor' when talking to Steve, but that conversation wasn't getting anywhere. The moment he steps into the carpet, he knows Steve's been there. The air smells clean, and citrusy, the carpet is vacuumed in perfect diagonal stripes, the lights are on, and the curtains, open. Bucky was really going to have to have a talk with that man.

He closes curtains on his way, and tries not to think about Steve spending hours in Manhattan, at the tower, up in their room, without him. Steve's been in the kitchen, too. The dishes all washed and put away, the countertops clean and shiny. He closes those curtains, too, appetite diminishing by the minute. He tugs his tie loose, avoiding the sight of himself in the full length mirror inside the bedroom. The bed is made, and the clothes are gone, and his books are stacked on the desk, and those same diagonal carpet stripes are everywhere, no footprints or anything.

There was a note on the foot of the bed, and James snatches it up on his way to close the curtains, shut out all the light and noise, sitting on the floor to lean against the footboard as he read the note.

_ Bucky, _  
_ Sent the laundry out. Should be back by eight AM - thank heavens I don't have to do the ironing anymore. Dry-cleaned suits in the closet, groceries in the fridge. Let me know if you need anything. Take care of yourself! _  
_ I miss you. _  
_ All my love, Steve _

He drops the note on the carpet, and scrubs his hands through his hair, nobody had the right to be as perfect as that man, and Bucky loves him for it, but he also hates him for it, and now he's alone with the damn vacuum stripes, and the pretty handwriting, and Steve's probably back in Brooklyn by now. He massages his forehead, wishing more than anything that he could sleep one night without nightmares.

"Bucky..."

James jerks up, and suddenly he was on his feet, weaponless, his heart in his throat. He catches sight of the figure, silhouetted against the now open bathroom door. It was Steve, broad chest and shoulders, slim waist, strong thighs, he was pretty recognizable, and when his heart dropped back down, his knees felt weak. Steve had already vanished into the dark.

That's when the curtains reopen.

He winces first, blinking against the light, and when he sees him, his breath catches in his throat. Steve's dressed in a grey suit, and a pale blue shirt, and the lines are tailored meticulously to his shape. Professionally done, probably. Fitted by Stark's guy, whatever his name was, and Bucky doesn't think he's ever seen Steve in a suit before.

He moves forward, and buries himself in Steve's chest, fingers looping under the lapels. "You're still here."

Steve frowns, pressing the backs of his fingers to James' cheek,

"You look nice." He breathes, smoothing his collar down when Steve doesn't say anything. His fingers ghost over the tailored grey fabric, touch his baby blue shirt with a gentleness close to reverence. "That is definitely your color."

Steve's cheeks color the tiniest bit, and he smiles warmly, "I owe you wine." He starts, "and music, and candles." He rubs the back of his neck, "But if you want to stay in tonight, I understand - you look tired. We can watch a movie or something."

Bucky laughs. "Stay in and watch movies, or go out and test the integrity of the buttons on that shirt." He pretends to consider this a moment, "Brew me a cup of coffee, sugar. I think I'll make it." He winks, leans forward into Steve's chest, offering a sultry smile, "Romance me."

The restaurant is an intimate little Italian place about ten minutes from the tower. It's quiet enough for the two of them to relax in, soft romantic music playing in the background, and candles on the table, and Bucky is making that face that means he's trying not to laugh when they're seated at a round table with a crisp white tablecloth.

Steve talks about his last mission in hushed tones after they've ordered, and Bucky stares at the flame dancing between them as he listens. It was one of the main reasons Steve had taken so long to visit. A four day mission someplace he can't tell Bucky in public, and cleanup in DC. Bucky's procrastinating telling Steve about the upcoming trip to Paris. It was necessary PR for the company, and he's Miss Potts bodyguard, so he needs to go, but he's not looking forward to it.

Steve let him drive home, and Bucky could've jumped him right there in the parking lot. He'd been working on obtaining his motorcycle license since being cleared to drive again, and while he'd passed the written test, he needed more hours of practice before the road test.

He loves driving the bike.

When he parks, Steve's arms twine around his waist, not seeming to want to let go, but James loved that. It felt good to be wanted. It couldn't last, of course, and he tries not to sigh when Steve sits back to let him off, but knowing Steve wanted to be near him, to touch him, chased away his lingering dark thoughts.

"You're welcome to come in, of course." Bucky teases, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We'd have the ol' king size all to ourselves, you and me."

"Well, now," Steve smiles, slipping forward into the drivers position. "Ma used to warn me about fellas like you." He said, shaking his head.

Bucky smiles, but says nothing, unsure where to go with that, or if it was only a joke.

Steve's still smiling, and Bucky rocks on his heels a minute, and Steve is staring at him expectantly, and Bucky is searching for something else to say.

"Well," Steve sighs.

Bucky looks up from where he was toeing at a spot of dirt, smiling timidly.

"No kiss or anything, huh?" Steve sighs.

Bucky lights up, and jerks his hands out of his pockets, letting one fall hesitantly to rest on Steve's chest, the other cupping his cheek when their lips touch.

It's only seconds before it is deep, and both of Bucky's hands hold his face, and they're breathing as one. It was one of those kisses that made Steve weak, one of the kisses that remind Steve that nobody else's could compare. To Steve, it felt like more than just a kiss. It felt like Bucky was showing him something, telling him something, he was painting him a picture, telling him a story, emotions pouring out in his kiss like raindrops streaking a frosted window, not showing themselves, but leaving the subtlest evidence of their presence. Fingerprints. It was how Bucky opened up to him, through physical touch, and Steve covets moments like this with him.

Bucky pulls back before he can get too carried away, much to Steve's disappointment, and he rests his forehead on Steve's shoulder and smiles. "Sure you won't come in?" He breathes, fingers smoothing down the front of Steve's shirt, slipping past his open jacket to feel the slim line of his waist, "I'll make it worth your while."

"If you insist." Steve says, and now Bucky's really smiling.

They are hand in hand, and Steve is smiling at him, and Bucky thinks he must be the cutest damn thing he's ever seen.

When they get inside, Bucky kisses him, stretching on his toes for a quick kiss on his smiling mouth, and when he lands back onto his heels, Steve moves back in silently, a warm hand cupping his cheek, and the softest lips James has ever felt touch his, and nobody has the right to be so perfect.

He's dipped backward, pulled tightly against Steve's body as his back arched to meet the new angle. Steve cupped a hand behind his neck, and dragged him in for more. Slower, deeper, and hungry, and they were still in the foyer when they finally break away from their kiss to pant heavily into one another's mouths. Bucky's hands beneath Steve's shirt rest on his toned stomach, and Steve is feeling up his biceps, unashamed.

"I missed you." Bucky whispers, fingers exploring the expanse of his chest beneath his untucked shirt.

"Missed you, too, Buck."

Bucky's hands start on the buttons, "Please stay." He whispers, head resting on Steve's chest. "Please."

Steve is quiet for a minute, thumb rubbing a soothing path between his shoulder blades, "I think Beau will be okay for one night, don't you?" He whispers, and James smiles, though it's weak, and starts tugging Steve towards the bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for your patience and support.


End file.
